


For the secrets I have hid

by it_was_so_human



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-23 01:52:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12495824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/it_was_so_human/pseuds/it_was_so_human
Summary: You cannot slake your lust with you sister, Jon Snow. (Only further proof you are undeserving of her in every way.)





	For the secrets I have hid

What a crude Lord he’s become, listening in on the whispers of chambermaids.

_“I don’t think Lady Stark needs so many furs if she has her cousin to warm her bed.”_

They whispered about them. The murmurs spread throughout the castle, from the servants to the Northern Lords to the dwellers of winter town.

That the Targaryen-Stark boy, the bastard went from fucking his aunt to setting his sights on his sister.

That the Lady of Winterfell and her once-brother were too close for mere relations. That they were _lovers_.

But they were not mere relations. They were the only remaining Starks and each other’s strength and counsel and two pieces that just _fit together_.

Years have passed since the war has ended, their anger and mistrust had turned into a partnership. Winterfell rebuilt and the North’s stones and ash turned into something greater. Their work moved from focusing on armies and war, to harvests and rain patterns.

This is not the life either of them expected, but there is joy in watching their home and people grow stronger.

She should be married by now, should have a babe in her arms and a gaggle of children look up adoringly at her from behind her skirts.

He approached the possibility once, tried to quietly suggest she get could take a husband. A man of her choosing. A good man.

She only smiled sadly and said there was no man she wanted. No man who would have her anyway. (Ignoring his protests that no sane man would not want her.) 

She felt safe, she felt fine. His future sons could be Winterfell’s heirs. She did not need anything more.

But he wanted her to have _more_. Wanted her to have what she dreamed of as a girl, the love and family she deserved.

Peace felt empty when he saw the yearning in his cousin’s eyes when she holds another woman’s babe.

When he sees her Tully blue eyes sadden as they land on a young enamored couple flirting in the halls. Or a tender gaze shared between a shop owner and his wife.

(She never had that, never had anything close to affection with a man.)

And that was something he could not give her. He could not give the woman he once called sister the warmth she needed.

Not if he wants to keep her safe. Safe from him. _Another man who simply wants to take from her._

He has to stay away, make sure they’re not in quiet places together. He does not trust himself to be alone with her for long. Not anymore.

She had noticed the distance. That he no longer visited her solar or spoke to her about things unrelated to Winterfell. They were no longer confidantes. She commented on it in passing last year, that perhaps she had shared too much. That when they told their stories—of what happened to a young boy and girl who left Winterfell—the details of her tale had scared him off. That she should have been more lady-like in her discretion. Had revealed too much and now he thought less of her.

She had tried to laugh it off, but he noticed with a pang to his heart that her eyes gleamed from unshed tears.

(And she no longer calls him brother. Has similarly drawn away from him. Has kept to herself.)

He should have held her close. Assured her she was so very dear to him. That no secrets she shared could scare him.  

It was _him_ who was wrong. It was him who in a moment over a year ago, had meant to only to brush back her strands of her falling hair. And instead found his thumb stroke her cheek as if it never wanted to leave. And he wondered what it would feel to place a kiss on the rose pink lips he couldn’t look away from.

It was his fault. He had an unnatural urge that night and then many more urges many nights since and distance was the only way he could have control.  

Control the way he felt drawn to her. Noticed how all signs of girlhood faded away into an exquisite beauty.

The creamy expanse of skin of her long elegant neck. How his eyes wanted to explore the length of her body. His fingers twitching to reach for her.  Run his fingers through her auburn hair.

He wanted to touch her. Be close to her. Enough to feel her breath on his skin. Feel the delicate weight of her body pressed upon on his.

But he also wants her smile. The small little tilt of her lips when she was amused. The gentle smile when a council member gave good news. But especially those breathtaking ones that lighten her face.  

(He had fancied himself strong, a brave warrior. But he has never felt so weak as when she shares one of those smiles.)

Her smile, and the beautiful little laughs that escape her perfect lips. The way she says his name when she’s happy, and when she’s sad, when she’s reprimanding him.

He wants her warmth. _Wants to absorb her very nearness._

The very ugly maddened Targaryen in him _wanted_ _her_. The fire and blood in his veins he tried to suppress wanted to lay claim to her.

Wants to hear her say his name and scream she wants him, wants her to cry his name s she’s in the throes of her own want and need and he’s drawing her closer.

_**No**._

No, it wasn’t Sansa he wanted. Not Sansa. Just a woman. Any woman.

This was the yearning of a man who had not had a woman in ages. (Strange that as a boy he was so willing to swear to a lifetime of celibacy and now a few years of it has drawn him to lust over his sister. Wanting to use the woman who once called the same man as him father.)

_You cannot slake your lust with your sister, Jon Snow. (It’s only further proof you are undeserving of her in every way.)_

But he’s known young love. And he has known lust. And this was something different.

This was a need for her built on affection and admiration. One that came from knowing her both as a daydreaming little girl and now as the resilient woman who commanded Lords.

A woman that deserves better than this. Than him. Her brother lusting after her. (He has no excuses here. But he can have some honor in his actions if not in his thoughts.)

He can barely look at across from the table.

Afraid at how lecherous his looks are.

Fears that she can hear his thoughts as if he was screaming them out loud.

That he burns for her, wants her in his arms, wants to feel her soft skin, taste her peaked tips, wants to hear her soft moans. Her quick draw of breath.

He has to keep his distance, keep their dealings formal because the feelings and need are too big and he is desperate to ease the pressure of their hold. So big he’s afraid the words will force their way from his lips and he will break her. Break her when she finally feels safe and strong.

Despite what the maids and the Lords and whoever else may believe, it’s not him she needs.

_“Nay, they aren’t like that. But gods know my lady deserves someone to care for her needs.”_

_“It isn’t natural for such a beautiful young woman to be so lonely.”_

_“Especially when her cousin is certainly very beautiful himself.”_ Followed by giggles. 

_“Hush you two, Lady Stark is a true gentlewoman. Always proper. Don’t spread those nasty rumors.”_

But the maid then lowered her voice to add, _“But she is always so sad at night. Shouldn’t have to be.”_

No, no she shouldn’t. Sansa Stark should be held close, should feel safe and beloved.

But not by him.

_“Sometimes at night, Lady Stark calls for him.”_

He feels as if his very breath has been knocked out of his body. 

But… but if she wanted him. If she wanted him as well?

That would change _everything_.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Jonsa Week Day 3 - Whispers and Secrets
> 
> Let's be friends on tumblr! I'm it-was-so-human


End file.
